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by ErenBombastic



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:14:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErenBombastic/pseuds/ErenBombastic
Summary: After receiving a call that two orphan children from strange circumstances need homes, Sengoku finds himself in an awkward situation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ((Hey ^^ Just adding that this is a modern au. Croc will come pretty soon, this is just the set up.))

The situation was a strange one, Sengoku at least had to admit that much. Two little boys, parents passed in two very different ways. The Mother dead from a number of ailments and poor living conditions; the father killed via bullet through the head. All that was left was a ten year old boy, and an eight year old boy who could not speak after the trauma of everything that had happened to his family in the past 2 years.

“Tsuru… I know this situation isn’t the best, but I am not sure if my home would be a good place for two children.” Sengoku sighed, leaning back in his chair. 

There was a pause over the phone, leaving Sengoku wondering whether of not he was going to receive a tongue lashing over this. “… I mean… in my defense, I’ve never had any children before. To suddenly have custody over two, as temporary as it may be… I just feel that uh… someone else could give these children the proper environment they need.”

“Sengoku,” Tsuru suddenly responded, her no nonsense tone of voice coming through clear as day over the phone. “These boys need a place to go, and I don’t have any other place. I’m asking you as your friend… please. Just until I find them another home to go to.”

Sengoku bit his lower lip, his fingers anxiously rubbing the frame of his glasses. Before he could open his mouth to respond to the woman, he heard the four words that would seal his fate.

“I could ask Garp.”

* * *

 

Doflamingo was a mixture of annoyed, and relieved. While the ten year old blonde wanted to live his own life and terrorize others with his new found friends from the streets, he was now being forced to live with a marine. Doflamingo had long become independent during the last two years; a guardian seemed laughable. Regardless, Doflamingo was happy about his younger brother being in a safe environment. 

“Hey, Roci?” Doflamingo whispered, his legs kicking back in forth against the couch in Tsuru’s office. “Maybe if this guy isn’t a jerk… I can try and make you cupcakes again?”

Rocinante was hugging his knees as he sat next to his older brother, silently nodding at his older brother’s suggestion.

Doflamingo sighed, his hand gently extending to try and hold onto his younger brother’s. Roci pulled away at first before hesitantly he put his hand back against Doflamingo’s.

“I told you I’m sorry about what happened to dad… but…. I promise I won’t do anything like that again… I don’t want to lose you like everyone else…”

The door opened and Tsuru and Sengoku walked in, Sengoku’s body tense and stiff. Tsuru shook her head, leaning down in front of Rocinante.

“Roci, Doffy. This is my old friend, Sengoku. He’s going to be looking after you two for a while, alright?” She spoke softly, though her eyes became more stern when they glanced over to the elder Donquixote brother. “Please be on your best behavior.”

The older boy nodded, though he was obviously rolling his eyes behind his shaded glasses. “Yes Miss Tsuru. Roci and I will be good children.”

The older woman stared at Doflamingo for a few seconds more before turning her head to look at Sengoku. Her eyes where still serious, urging the other to say something to the boys.

Sengoku took a deep breath, looking at the two children standing in front of him, his fingers coming together. “Hello. Tsuru has told me all about the two of you.”

Doflamingo looked to the older man, his features remaining stern as his arm wrapped around Rocinante protectively. “She told us about you too. My name is Doflamingo, and this is my younger brother Rocinante.” 

Sengoku nodded, noticing that the younger boy was starting to curl up again, not even attempting to make eye contact with Sengoku. On the contrary, behind those shaded eyes Sengoku knew that the older Donquixote brother’s stare was not easing up.

‘Oh great,’ Sengoku thought to himself. ‘This is going to be fun.’

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rocinante's silence is only ever broken when he starts to cry.

When first meeting the brothers, Sengoku quickly noted that Rocinante was the quiet one of the two. Oh how he wished that was true one hundred percent of the time, as mean as that may sound. Rocinante still refused to speak to anyone, instead opting to cry as loud as he possibly could at times.

Sengoku could not blame the child for crying, but that did not mean he was enjoying the occasional sound that distracted him from his duties. When Rocinante cried Sengoku would drop his household activities at the drop of a hat to make sure that the child was alright, only to then watch Rocinante move away from him in a frightened manner. Sengoku knew that deep down Rocinante felt safe in his home, however the marine couldn’t help but think back to when he listed all his worries about having children in his home in the first place. 

Much to Sengoku’s displeasure, Doflamingo was not any help in those situations. One of the first times Rocinante started to cry, Sengoku had hoped that Doflamingo would be able to pacify his younger brother. As much as the ten year old tried to calm his little brother down, Rocinante continued to cry even louder than before. Eventually the ten year old and the forty-eight year old decided it was best for Rocinante to tire himself out.

Sengoku figured that perhaps Rocinante would be able to work what ever was being bottled up out of his system, and he would possibly relax. After two weeks of Rocinante’s crying fits, Sengoku was starting to worry whether Rocinante would ever let everything out.

While Sengoku found himself growing tired as the days went on, Doflamingo yet again had a mixture of feelings. On one hand, Doflamingo was beyond frustrated that the only thing his little brother seemed to do anymore was cry or curl into a ball. On the other hand, Doflamingo realized that he was partially the reason his little brother was behaving this way in the first place.

Throughout their experiences in life, Doflamingo grew harder and grown far beyond his years. He became the care taker to his family, and he would do anything to make sure his family was safe. Doflamingo never regretted the actions he had made in strive for what was best for his family, but he did regret forgetting that Rocinante was not like him.

Rocinante still was close to him, but Doffy knew part of that was because his younger brother did not have anything left. His younger brother, who looked and behaved so much like their mother, desperately needed stability. 

Even if it came from a dirty father killing brother.

Rocinante was never going to totally forgive him, and Doflamingo knew that, and he didn’t care if his little brother would ever forgive at all. All Doflamingo wanted right now was his little brother to start speaking again.

Doflamingo sighed softly, peering into the bedroom he shared with his brother. Rocinante was on his bed, silently laying down as he looked up to the ceiling. Doflamingo knew that it was only a matter of time before the younger Donquixote brother would start weeping again.

“I can’t take this again…” Doflamingo murmured to himself, heading towards the stair care. “I’m not listening to him right now…”

As Doflamingo reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked left and right for a moment to make sure Sengoku was not in sight. Doflamingo could only assume that Tsuru had warned Sengoku about all the trouble the young ten year old liked to get into, and the friends that Doflamingo had recently started to associate himself with. While Vergo was his own age and Pica was only a year younger than him, Trebol and Diamante were delinquent teenagers. It did not matter that the ten year old Doflamingo was in charge of the little group he had going, that perhaps only made the situation more cautioning. 

Doflamingo bit on his lower lip, his hand slowly making contact with the door knob.

“Don’t even think about it, Doffy.”

Sengoku’s voice rang through his office to the corridor, a certain stern tone enforcing the command. Doflamingo initially jumped before he started to grit his teeth. As Doflamingo opened his mouth his frustrated expression was changed to an eerie smile, even if he knew that Sengoku technically couldn’t see it.

“Okay Mr. Sengoku~!”

* * *

 

The night was looking to become a peaceful night. Sengoku laid in his bed, thinking about events that had taken place earlier in the day involving Garp. Upon hearing that Sengoku was temporarily watching over the Donquixote brothers, Garp seemed to take the rest of the day teasing the other marine about the wonders of fatherhood. 

Sengoku at the time gave the other a look, but Garp still talked on about his own family. In the midst of that, he tried to relay tips to the other in order to help with “anything that might come up.”

“Hate to tell you Garp, but not every child is as self efficient as Dragon…” Sengoku sighed to himself, his eyes fluttering shut.

He was surprised that he had yet to hear from Rocinante yet, however that only made him worried about when the child would eventually start crying. Rocinante did not have a schedule, but certainly he would cry during similar times of the day.

Just as he thought that, small little sniveling noises echoed into Sengoku’s room. Sengoku sighed softly, sitting up from his bed. Pausing for a moment, he leaned over to his night stand to grab his glasses and turn the lights on. 

As the light cascaded through his room, Sengoku was surprised to see that instead of in his own bed, Rocinante was standing next to the older man's. Rocinante’s lip was quivering and through the boys bangs, Sengoku could tell that the child had already started to cry some time ago.

“Roci… are you okay?” Sengoku asked softly,his feet sliding off the bed.

Rocinante’s breathing became more stressed, and Sengoku knew that the young child was about to start weeping again. As the strained noises escaped the back of Rocinante’s throat, unexpectedly he moved forwards towards Sengoku.

Sengoku froze, feeling Rocinante latching onto his leg. Rocinante’s body was shaking, and only now did Sengoku know how hard the shaking was. Gently, Sengoku moved his hand to the back of the Rocinante’s head, hesitating before patting it. Rocinante did not pull away, and his crying did not make any audible noise for once.

After fifteen minutes, Sengoku knew that Rocinante was not going to be leaving anytime soon. “Alright, Rocinante… why don’t you slide up here. You can sleep in my bed tonight if it makes you feel better.”

Without missing a beat the eight year old was pushing his way up onto the bed. As Rocinante settled he grabbed possessively onto Sengoku’s hand before closing his eyes. Sengoku stared at the child, thinking that at least now Rocinante was semi calm. He leaned over to the lamp and turned the light back out, looking at the exhausted blonde boy.

“… Good night, Rocinante…”


End file.
